


House of Cards

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Series: Mix Tape [10]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: The characters in this story are (mostly) from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.</p>
    </blockquote>





	House of Cards

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are (mostly) from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Yuri, Flynn decided, could just go fuck himself. After what had happened that morning, he was seriously considering giving up and moving out. It was difficult enough living with someone he had unrequited feelings for, but to have that someone make a pass at him without any deeper meaning behind it aside wanting to get laid was too much. Yuri had crossed a line. If he was actually going to return Flynn's feelings, if he was willing to break up with Crash and try to build an actual relationship, that was one thing. To suggest what he had on a whim, though, without any regard for Flynn or even Crash was…was beyond what he'd thought Yuri capable of. He'd _defended_ Yuri. He'd thought he was a good person. He'd thought he was worthy of trust.

Flynn felt like an idiot.

He finished getting dressed and checked the clock. It was almost eleven, which meant that Sodia would be arriving within an hour. A bitter smile twisted his lips. He had wanted her to be able to get to know Yuri. He wasn't stupid enough to think that she wasn't talking to his mother about what was going on, but he'd hoped to be able to sway her to his side, to make her an ally his mother might actually listen to. He'd thought that if maybe he could get his mother to see _Yuri_ past all her prejudices and distrust that maybe she would relent. Maybe she would understand. No chance of that now. Yuri had spoiled it.

Had Yuri cheated on Crash before? How many times? Flynn had spoken up for him when his mother had insinuated that he slept around, but had that been the truth?

He couldn't start thinking that way. He was angry, yes, and he had every right to be, but that didn't mean he ought to go leaping to conclusions. Maybe it had just been a spur of the moment impulse, just an isolated mistake.

Yeah, right. He'd asked so easily and dismissed Crash like he didn't even matter. He had been so casual about it all.

It could have been a joke, though. Maybe he hadn't been serious. Maybe Flynn had missed the cues when he'd lost his temper. If he had just laughed it off rather than gotten angry….

But Yuri had been unabashedly flirting with him. He'd stretched himself out to give Flynn a good look, watched like a hawk as he'd started to change…. He remembered seeing Yuri's fingers splayed out over the bed _come, sit_ and the way his hair had fallen over his face as he'd cocked his head to the side _join me_ and licked his lips, showing off that beguiling flash of silver. He'd been within Flynn's reach, less than a thought away because a thought was what had given Flynn pause. He could have kept his mouth shut, ignored worries about Crash and right and wrong and just enjoyed it. He could have kissed Yuri, tasted him, taken him right then and there—

That wasn't what he wanted, though. He didn't want Yuri for sex. He wanted more than that from him, and he was made freshly miserable by the realization that he wasn't going to get it.

 

* * *

 

His thoughts continuously dragged him away from the present through most of Sodia's visit. They sat at the dining room table and made a light lunch out of leftovers from the party as they talked about what parts of Zaphias Sodia wanted Flynn to take her to see. He thought he managed to be cheerful enough, but every bite of the food Yuri had prepared reminded him of their most recent argument and the troubles between them that only ever seemed to change shape rather than diminish.

Honestly, with everything going on between them, he couldn't imagine why Yuri had gone to sleep in his bed. Well, he could imagine. He could imagine that Yuri had been harboring a real attraction, that maybe, deep down, he wanted Flynn, too, and maybe a few drinks at the party had sent him to Flynn's bed rather than his own.

It had been a shock when he'd come home to find Yuri nestled in his sheets. The party hadn't even been over, and Flynn had closed up his room and gone out to play host until the house was empty of all but its occupants. When he had checked, he'd found that Yuri was still asleep. It hadn't been that he didn't have the heart to wake him, but that he hadn't want to chase him away and lose that unexpected sign of trust and acceptance.

Instead, he'd bedded down on the couch. He'd borrowed one of Yuri's pillows, but the smell of sweat and shampoo and cigarette smoke that clung to it had kept him awake and he'd eventually been forced to push it off onto the floor and make do without. His neck was still sore, and he flexed his shoulders as he rubbed it.

"Flynn? Are you all right?"

"Huh?" He realized that he was grimacing and smiled for her. "Sorry. I just didn't sleep well. No big deal. Let me get my keys, and we can go."

Even as he drove her down toward the park and tried to point out landmarks and places of interest, he kept slipping into the Yuri-shaped imprint of the city. A favorite restaurant, an ad on the side of a bus for the community college he attended, a convenience store he frequented…the topography of Zaphias now held a thousand distracting little reminders that it was home to Yuri Lowell.

Luckily, Sodia seemed quieter than usual, as well. She wasn't normally particularly outspoken unless she was debating her point of view, and, as the two of them agreed on most things, that made for fairly pleasant conversations and companionable silences. He hoped the quiet between them that morning could pass for the latter.

It was a little easier to forget about Yuri once they were walking through the park. Flynn had been there with him only twice before, and they'd gone straight to the old amphitheater both times. He took Sodia along the paths to the lake and the more recently constructed amphitheater. Couples and families were milling around, though most of them had congregated at the tables near the shore. Walking among them with Sodia, Flynn realized that he looked normal, that if his mother could see him then, that she would approve. The thought made him feel vaguely disingenuous, as though he were trying to pass himself off as something he was not. He tried to shake it off. He was only showing an old friend around the city. He'd had outings with Yuri that felt much more like dates.

"Too bad you didn't bring your violin," Sodia said, looking up at the amphitheater.

Flynn had to agree. He eyed the curved hood overhanging the stage, a wall built specially to catch and direct and amplify sounds. The acoustics would be so much better here than they had been in that grassy depression where the metalheads had played.

He took her through the downtown area, past shops and cafes, colorful small businesses that gave the city some flair. They passed by Don Whitehorse's store, and Flynn was glad that Sodia didn't insist on going in. He wasn't so full of himself to think that Whitehorse would remember him from ZaFest, but it was probably better to avoid tempting fate. He didn't want to talk about Yuri.

They returned to the car and he took her to his campus and showed her around. She was impressed by the statuary, the bas-reliefs and the soaring columns, though Flynn felt it was all a bit much. Though it was a Sunday, the campus wasn't deserted. There were students who lived in the dorms and socialized on the university grounds. There were groups meeting to practice and clubs gathering to pursue shared interests. Bursts of laughter and music rose above the rustle of the wind among the leaves. They walked the entire campus, relaxing in the easygoing, Sunday afternoon atmosphere, and Flynn only thought of Yuri once or twice the whole time they were there.

Once Sodia had seen all there was to see of St. Martel's, they drove back into the city for an early dinner. Both of their moods had improved by then, and they talked as they waited for their food. Sodia was considering a career in the police force, and hearing her talk about it stirred something in Flynn.

Although he'd always loved music and knew he could be happy making a living as a violinist, there was another part of him that wanted to do something that really made a difference. He'd used to talk about becoming a police officer when he was young, but those aspirations had all but died out with his father. Now, sitting across from Sodia and listening to her talk about how she was preparing for her career, he thought again about the possibility. It was the more practical choice than hoping he was talented enough to make his living as a violinist, and he couldn't deny that he was more excited about the idea than scared, despite what he knew of his father's death. Still…still….

He thought of the feel of his violin in his hands, the pull of the bow across the strings and the way the notes resonated through his instrument, through him. He recalled the simple happiness of playing by himself or for friends, and the joy of sharing the fruits of his hard work with an audience. It wasn't something he could give up.

 

* * *

 

A familiar, dusty purple Trans Am was sitting in the driveway when they returned to the house, and Flynn had to park on the grass to avoid blocking Sodia in. She looked even more surprised to see Crash than Flynn was, though with no blue motorcycle to signal Yuri's return, there was really no reason for him to be there. Flynn walked Sodia to her car and said a quick goodbye, then made his way up to the house and his unexpected guest.

Crash was sitting on the porch step, smoking and sunning himself in the last of the afternoon's fading light. He stubbed out his cigarette on the concrete as Flynn approached, and leaned aside to let him pass, then stood up, prepared to follow him inside.

"Yuri isn't here." Flynn hoped that stating the obvious would serve as a deterrent. It didn't, of course.

"Yeah, I know. He asked me to come by and feed Repede for him."

Of course. That way, he could remain in hiding at Crash's place.

Flynn's keys bit harshly into his palm as he shoved the door open. Without any invitation, Crash showed himself in and went straight to the laundry room and its door leading to the backyard. Moments later, before Flynn had even made it to his room, Repede came charging up to him, grinning his wolfish grin as he welcomed him home. Kneeling to scratch between his pointy ears, Flynn heard the rattle of dog food being poured into a bowl.

"Hey, you mind feeding him tomorrow?" Crash asked. "I've got this thing going on."

"Tell Yuri to come do it. Repede is his dog." He leaned in close, murmuring: "He doesn't deserve you, huh? You're too good for him."

"Dude, if Yuri could come, I wouldn't be here."

Looking up, he saw Crash lounging in the laundry room doorway, watching him. His hands slowed their strokes over thick fur.

"What do you mean ' _if_ he could come?' Where is he?" He didn't have a gig; Flynn would have known. Why couldn't he…?

"Got arrested this morning. Cops don't let you run home to feed your pet."

"He _what_?" Flynn surged to his feet, gaping. "What happened?"

"I dunno. Some misdemeanor, he said. Drunk and disorderly, I think."

"How long are they holding him? What's his bail set at? No, it's a fine for that, isn't it? How much?"

"I don't know, man. He asked me to feed his dog, not bail him out."

"So you just _left_ him there?"

"Well…yeah." He didn't even have the decency to look as if he'd done something wrong. "Look, money's tight, and he wasn't asking for help getting out early. They're only gonna hold him for a day or two."

Flynn couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He's your _boyfriend_ ," he managed, as if stating the fact would make Crash realize that he needed to do something more than just feed Yuri's dog for him.

Before he could think twice about it, he was rushing into his room. There was a little bit of emergency cash in his sock drawer, and he pulled it out and stuffed it into his pocket. Hopefully, it would be enough to cover the fine.

What the hell had Yuri been thinking? As soon as they were back home, Flynn was going to kick his ass.

Crash blocked his way when he tried to leave. Not in any mood to deal with him or that huge, mocking grin, Flynn shoved past.

"Leave," he said, wanting to add on a demand that he never return. "I'm going out."

"Think you've got the wrong idea." Crash followed him down the hall, in no hurry whatsoever.

"If you aren't going to go get him—"

"Yuri and I aren't dating."

It took him a moment to realize what had prompted the non sequitur, and he stopped where he was, turning to face Crash. "But—"

"In common parlance, the arrangement between Yuri and myself would be described as: 'friends with benefits.'"

"You're…?"

He grinned his lazy grin. "He'd call us 'fuck buddies,' but that's always seemed kinda harsh, don't you think?" He stuffed his hands down into his pockets and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. "We cool now?"

Flynn had absolutely no idea what to say in response to that, and he turned his back on Crash and the question. "I've got to go." _Someone_ needed to get Yuri out of jail.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, Yuri was slouched in the passenger seat of Flynn's car for the ride home. He hadn't been particularly grateful, which shouldn't have come as any surprise, really. Thankfully, he hadn't been drunk, either. Flynn had gotten the whole story from the rookie Yuri had nearly punched, and he wasn't sure if he was angrier with Yuri or the policeman who had cuffed and charged him. Yuri was the more immediate target.

"You're lucky the one officer didn't want to press charges."

He wasn't, really. The police didn't actually have much of a case. The rookie had forgotten to announce himself before grabbing Yuri from behind, meaning Yuri hadn't realized his "attacker" was a police officer. He had neither been drunk, nor the instigator of the fight. Really, the senior officer should have been written up for taking things so far, but Flynn had gotten the impression that Yuri wasn't as unfamiliar with the jail's holding cells as Flynn would have liked, and there was certainly a history between him and the officer responsible for the trumped-up charges. He'd even gone so far as to impound Yuri's motorcycle. Flynn had had enough to pay the fine that got Yuri released, but he'd drawn the line at the bike.

As unfair as the consequences had been, Yuri had still been drinking in public—before noon!—and he'd picked a fight in front of a pair of police officers. Flynn felt that a little anger was justified.

"What were you even doing, drinking so early in the day?"

"It was hard lemonade, not vodka. Can't even get buzzed off that stuff." He was barely eyelevel with the window, and staring resolutely out at the city.

"Who was the girl? The one you picked a fight with. I hope she was at least someone you knew, and that you weren't terrorizing random strangers."

"She thinks I stole her boyfriend."

"You didn't, really?"

"Relax. I didn't sleep with him."

Flynn almost had enough time to be relieved before Yuri added: "He turned me down."

Groaning, he resisted the urge to bang his head on the steering wheel.

"I didn't ask you to come bail me out."

"I am well aware of that."

He had to force himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel, but that tension kept returning, welling up in him until his knuckles went white and he had to deliberately unclench his fingers. Yuri stirred, the mood in the car not lost on him. Eventually, however, he felt compelled to break the silence.

"Why'd you come to get me?"

"You have to ask?"

"Estelle thinks that you honestly, seriously like me."

Why now? Why did he want to have that conversation while Flynn was so upset with him and still reeling from the way Crash's admission changed the meaning of what had happened that morning? He sighed, knowing that if he didn't seize the chance, there might not be another.

"More and more, despite myself."

There was silence between them for a couple long minutes until Yuri once more felt compelled to speak.

"…Not gonna ask if there's a chance it could work out?"

"My day has been crappy enough, thanks."

"Look, if you want to move out—"

"I don't." It was an immediate response, but, sadly, probably not the most intelligent one. "I don't know," he amended. "Maybe. Do you want me to stay?"

"Stay or go—it's up to you. If you're expecting me to beg you not to leave, you may as well drop me off here and let me walk home."

The light before them turned red and Flynn locked the doors as he slowed to a stop. Of course he wasn't expecting Yuri to beg. They both knew that. All he wanted was to know that Yuri wanted him to stay. He stared into the cherry glow of the stoplight as he asked: "Am I not even worth that much to you?"

"You expected better?"

There was a bite to his words that Flynn hadn't heard from him before. He sounded sulky and defensive, and he'd hitched his shoulder up, turning even further away. It hit him all of a sudden that he'd actually _insulted_ Yuri that morning, and he wondered now if the story about propositioning the girl's boyfriend had really been true, or just a jab at him.

"I didn't mean that."

"Pretty sure you did. Don't make yourself a liar on my account."

"For God's sake, Yuri!" He hit the gas harder than he'd meant, and the car jumped forward, pushing them back against their seats. "When I said that, I thought…." He took a deep breath. Bad enough that Crash had gotten a laugh at his expense. Now Yuri would get his turn. "I thought you and Crash were dating. I thought you were trying to cheat on him."

"Just keep digging that hole deeper," he said, but Flynn had risked a glance over and could see that the corner of his mouth was quirked upwards. No sooner had he turned back to the road, than a snort of repressed laughter erupted beside him, followed by Yuri's voice, thick with amusement. "Idiot."

"How was I supposed to know? You get along with him a lot better than you do with me!"

He snorted again, derisively this time. "Crash won't fight with me. You're a hell of a lot more fun."

"Does that mean you don't want me to move out?"

He didn't answer right away and, when he did speak up, Flynn wasn't sure he wouldn't have preferred the silence.

"I won't tell you to go, but I won't ask you to stay, either."

His heart sank. He hadn't even realized that hope had begun to buoy it once more.

On the way back to the house, Flynn stopped off at a convenience store and picked up a couple of the magazines that listed local houses and apartments for rent. It was time to move on.


End file.
